I was never into perfumes; I associated them with frivolous extravagance. A few months ago, my brother asked for a perfume as a present.
So, off I went to various stores to just find something universally pleasing. I had searched throughout the mall and was taking my tired legs to the last few stores.
I stopped at a niche store, and the shopping assistant handed me that small white strip of paper. What happened next was not a perfume but an experience.
I was standing on an Irish beach where waves went up to the dark cliffs and barely kissed them before disappearing in the deep expanse of the ocean. The salt from the waves still lingered in the air as it taunted the deep green leaves of the dense trees surrounding the cliffs.
Scents have a peculiar habit of transporting you to a place in time. I discovered the world of niche perfumery that tries to encapsulate memories or characters in a bottle.
One of my favourite scent memories is that of raindrops on wet earth. It has a clean, crisp scent that smells like soil after the rain has washed away everything from it. In India, we have a peculiar affinity for it. It is said that rain has the ability to purify things and is thus a source of joy.
From childhood memories of making paper boats, dancing, and jumping under rain showers to mom making pakodas and samosas when the drizzling started.
I later learned that this particular scent is called petrichor. I went in search of a perfume that reminded me of this memory.
There was one that had notes of English oak and hazelwood; one whiff of it was divine.
"You're standing in the middle of a forest in the Himalayas, surrounded by tall conifers as far as the eye can see. There is a crunch of dry leaves and needles on the wet forest floor."
It was close, but it was not petrichor.
I came across a video on social media about a village in India that captured this scent in an attar. An attar is a concentrated form of a perfume, like an oil, that can be dabbed on your skin.
The village is present in Kannauj, a place that has a thriving flower business. The perfumers use the traditional method of digging a pit and macerating the ingredients in it. It is called mitti attar. Mitti means soil or earth in Hindi.
This scent is not long-lasting, which, to many, would defeat the purpose of a perfume. But for about half an hour, it smells like a part of my childhood.
"As the rain touches the ground, it starts to wipe away the grime from the earth, revealing its pristine beauty. It washes the dirt and soot of modern life away to create a fresh, pure moment where nature's beauty shines through. A scent of happiness and new beginnings settles in the air."
I have learned that sometimes we don't buy a perfume; we buy an experience.
